Although I owned a clarinet when I was 16, I didn’t play it until much
later. I was playing professionally in a little joint with some good musicians
who were all older than me—about 20 to 25. That was the time I switched
from alto to tenor, because tenor was more appreciated for jazz. As a
matter of fact, I played it so badly when I was in the Will Bradley band—we
had four–clarinet passages, just sustained notes in the low register to
play. And I never even put a reed on—I used to play it real soft. They
insisted I played the clarinet, but I didn’t really want to. So he fired
me. Then he took me back, and fired me again for the same reason.

When I got into the Service, I was in a band—and I had to march. I realised
that I couldn’t march very well with the tenor strapped around my neck.
So I got out my clarinet—then I suddenly discovered how much fun the instrument
was. I’d wasted a few years, but not too long. I was 21 or 22—still quite
young.

About a year later, the Glenn Miller AEF band was being organised. The
sidemen were hand–chosen from all over the country. I’d been in touch
with some of the guys that were going to be in it. We all knew each other
in New York. Zeke Zarchey, the first trumpeter, Trigger Alpert, the bass
player and drummer Ray McKinley were close with Glenn. And I was recommended
to him by the three of them. And Captain Glenn Miller went to a lot of
trouble to get me a transfer out of one branch of the service to another.
I was in the infantry—and he got me into the air force. Which is impossible!
—once you’re in the infantry, you’re there. But he did it.

Actually, we tried to effect the transfer the way you’re supposed to
do it. But they wouldn’t let me go, because I was the leader of the army
dance band and they wanted me to stay. They even offered me a double promotion.
When the orders finally came in, I had the choice of accepting the promotion
or the transfer. I just told the colonel: “I believe I’d be more valuable
in the Miller band than I would be here.” As it turned out, the band was
dissolved about three months later—so I was right.

I was playing tenor in the Miller band for several months. But when we
would do some little gigs on the side for the officers, we’d use a jazz
combo. And it seemed like everybody wanted to play the hot saxophone,
whether it was an alto or tenor. I didn’t want to be pushy about it, and
nobody was interested in playing the clarinet. So I played it. When Ray
McKinley, who had been the co-leader of the Will Bradley band, heard me,
he fell out of his chair. He said: “I didn’t think you’d ever play clarinet!”

Then McKinley was assigned a large band to play lunch-hour music for
the air force cadets, with whom we were stationed at Yale University in
Newhaven, Connecticut. In that band I started to play the lead clarinet
that was required for the Miller sound. One day Glenn Miller and Jerry
Gray walked in and heard the band, although they couldn’t see it, because
we were up on a balcony. They came upstairs and they saw that it was me
on clarinet.

At the time, Glenn was unhappy with the sound of the lead clarinet player.
Immediately he called a rehearsal for the next day. After we had a quick
run–through with the reeds, he said to me: “From now on you’re playing
lead clarinet.” I stayed with the clarinet, more or less, from that point
on.

Some of the guys, including Mel Powell, had been with Benny Goodman’s
band. Mel used to bring in some of the arrangements he had done for Benny,
which gave me a chance to play that type of clarinet, too. Carmen Mastren
was on guitar, and he’d written for the Tommy Dorsey band. He brought
in some; also he wrote several things for me, just featuring the clarinet.
so I was very fortunate. I had a lot of help, really—and good music to
play.

Certainly, Glenn found the perfect formula to get a band over to the
public. My guess, though, is that he would have moved on from that sound
to something else. He may have retained it to a degree, but we felt that
he was already blossoming out in other directions. He would try different
sounds—he was always a creative genius in that sense. Gifted with a tremendous
musical ear, he was truly a great musician. Far better than most people
think. They think the band was great, and so on, but they don’t realise
how much he contributed.

When arrangers wrote for him, he oversaw and edited everything. We would
have one play–down at rehearsal; then he would take the score and say:
“Leave this out, put this in.” At once the arrangement was improved. Often
he would sketch out a skeleton, telling an arranger: “I want something
like this.”

But he himself was a fine arranger. Before he got his own band, he wrote
for all the great bands when they were first starting—Goodman, the Dorsey
Brothers, Ray Noble. You know, there’s a classic chart on “Bugle Call
Rag” —almost every band plays it. It was his. As far as leaders go—he
was probably the most qualified leader that I’ve ever worked for. He knew
exactly what he was doing.

Being in that band changed my whole life. It got me away from the tenor
saxophone. I’ve never been really able to return to it—other than using
it in sections in the studios. Since then, I’ve always been called to
play the clarinet. I studied the instrument a great deal during that time.
After we left England, we went to Paris, where I had lessons from an ex–Boston
symphony player. In New York I went to a fine teacher by the name of Leon
Rushinoff. Also, I studied with Reginald Kell for about a year.

Reginald uses a different embouchure from the average clarinet player.
When Benny went to him, he wanted to sound just like him. But I don’t
think anybody can do that, because Reginald is a complete individual—a
marvellous musician.

Actually, he tried to get me to give up jazz. His idea was that he would
teach me the whole repertoire. Which is a seven–year study—but he said
he could do it in three. It would have meant that I couldn’t play any
jazz for three years—then I’d become a long–hair soloist, which would
be very fine. I just said: for three years? “Reg—what do I do You want
to sponsor me—great!”

Anyway, I just got as much as I could, and he helped me tremendously.
Particularly helpful to me was finding out about the psychological approach
to playing that he has. Plus, of course, the callisthenics that are involved—you
must learn all those things.

Even today I find that clarinet is a complex instrument to play. I don’t
think anybody ever says it’s easy. But I like it—it’s a challenge every
day. Not many people concentrate on it. It’s too hard. Like oboe and flute—they’re
difficult instruments. Benny Goodman says music is a difficult instrument.
Which, I think, sums it all up very well.